Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for December, 2019

I stood there, unable to move my eyes from what was happening in front of me.

She wet the facecloth with warm water, then, ever so gently dabbed his forehead, his cheeks, chin, nose, mouth and eyes. With the tenderest of care of care, her hands guided the dampened cloth, slowly, gingerly over his face. It was as if I was watching the work of a master … no,

it was as if I was watching her wipe the face of her own father.

The expert, compassionate act I viewed stopped me where I was standing, for I had entered a time and place of holiness, beauty and honor.

In my seventy-six hours of final vigil with my dad, this was one of the most tender moments … and it was performed by a stranger, a nurse, paid to do a task, but who took it beyond job description, she performed an act of tenderness as I have never witnessed before. And I will forever be changed because of it.

The tenderness and compassion with which she worked … the respect and dignity that she blessed my comatose father with also blessed me. I was treated to an act of a master at her job, one who did more than was expected of her.

I was reminded of the story of the death of Lazarus as I watched this beautiful kindness.

Lazarus had died, already in the tomb for four days. Jesus said he was going to “wake him” from his death sleep.

When Jesus (and the disciples) got there, he saw Mary and Martha weeping, filled with sorrow over the loss of their brother.

“When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.
“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.
Jesus wept.
Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!””
(John 11:33-36)

This is a similar picture of tenderness and compassion. Jesus knew that he would raise the dead Lazarus from the grave. But, his tears were not over Lazarus’ death, they were tears of compassion for the sorrow and heartache that Mary and Martha were experiencing. He wept with empathy, responding with love and gentleness.

Read Full Post »

As the plane began pulling from the terminal gate I realized that I am beginning a new stage, a new way of life …

learning to live with the grief of great loss.

Just a month ago I sat with a number of women, all but two of us having experienced the loss of a parent … I sat and thought how I must not waste time, must not take this time for granted. The next day I mentioned to hubby that we must make trips back to our childhood homes and families more frequently, more intentional.

I have listened to enough people going through grief, that I have (so far) not held back about how I feel … laughing when I feel like laughing as well as giving my tears equal freedom to fall freely when they break through the dams.

That means I will probably be writing about grief freely, as well.

I have heard, while sitting with others, that grief does not fade, does not ever leave. You simply learn to live with it’s presence, it’s permanent mark.

Grief is now a part of me … now I need to learn how to wear it.

This new look is not visible when we look into the mirror, we cannot dress it up, we cannot remove it. It is more like a bruising, a trauma to our soul that goes everywhere we go, shadows our thoughts, surfacing out of nowhere, like a charley horse in our calf in the middle of the night, demanding our attention to it’s discomfort.

“The people we most love do become a physical part of us, ingrained in our synapses, in the pathways where memories are created.” – Meghan O’Rourke

One of my favorite movies is Meet Joe Black. The clip, below, (at 1:45) is about the letting go of physical life and all that is part of it. It is the final line, spoken by Anthony Hopkins character, William Parrish, that is a great reminder of the reality of death:

And that’s life… what can I tell you.

This sorrow, this grief that we carry after a great loss … it is part of life. To live life, while carrying the grief of death is one of the paradoxes of being human.

And that’s life… what can I tell you.

William Parrish : It’s hard to let go, isn’t it?
Joe Black : Yes it is, Bill.
William Parrish : And that’s life… what can I tell you.

Read Full Post »

Hope … that is the word on this first Sunday of Advent.

As we enter this season of waiting, we begin with hope …

because hope is what helps us to take one step, after another.

As I awoke this morning, I felt the heaviness of the day … it took effort to convince myself of the hope that is promised. I left to head across the country. I left my mom to do the things, internally and externally, that follow death. My heart aches for her, for her heartbreak, for her loss of her life’s love and the things that need to be done after a life is all done, buried. I felt hope slip through my fingers and toes, as I tried to imagine her grief, exhaustion …

like wandering through the wilderness.

That is what today, what hope is for … to help us put one foot in front of the other, as we walk that pilgrim journey through the valley of dark shadows.

The hope of the world is Jesus, from the first hints in the Garden to the manger in a dusty, dirty stable in Bethlehem. We put our hope in what we cannot see, Jesus, the very Son of God, the rescuer and redeemer of our weak and weary world. 

Jesus … the rescuer of those who grieve, those who are heartbroken … like a cane for the lame, he steadies, supports as we place the weight of our world on him.

I know it’s all you’ve got to just be strong,
and it’s a fight just to keep it together
I know you think that you are too far gone,
but hope is never lost

hold on, don’t let go
Just take one step closer,
Put one foot in front of the other
you’ll get through this
Just follow the light in the darkness
You’re gonna be okay

I know your heart is heavy from those nights
but just remember that you are a fighter.
You never know just what tomorrow holds
And you’re stronger than you know

When the night is closing in
don’t give up and don’t give in.
This won’t last, it’s not the end
You’re gonna be okay

“Out of the depths I call to you, Lord!
Lord, listen to my voice;
let your ears be attentive
to my cry for help.

I wait for the Lord; I wait
and put my hope in his word. 
I wait for the Lord”

Psalm 130:1-2, 5-6

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts

Lessons from a Lab

From My Daily Walk with the Lord and My Labrador

From The Darkness Into The Light

love, christ, God, devotionals ,bible studies ,blog, blogging, salvation family,vacations places pictures marriage, , daily devotional, christian fellowship Holy Spirit Evangelists

Karla Sullivan

Progressive old soul wordsmith

Becoming the Oil and the Wine

Becoming the oil and wine in today's society

I love the Psalms

Connecting daily with God through the Psalms

Memoir of Me

Out of the abundance of my heart ,I write❤️

My Pastoral Ponderings

Pondering my way through God's beloved world

itsawonderfilledlife

FIXING MY EYES on wonder in everyday life

Perfectly Imperfect Life

Jesus lovin', latte drinking, dog lovin', Kansas mama and wife.

What Are You Thinking?

I won't promise that they are deep thoughts, but they are mine. And they tend to be about theology.

Sealed in Christ

An Outreach of Sixth Seal Ministries

Amazing Tangled Grace

A blog about my spiritual journey in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Following the Son

One man's spiritual journey

Fortnite Fatherhood

A father's digital age journey with his family and his faith

Forty Something Life As We Know It

I am just an ordinary small-town woman in her forties enjoying the country life. Constantly searching for wisdom on a daily basis.